The Fraility of Life

I am sitting, again, with my husband as we wait for his father to come out of surgery. In the past 4 months, his dad has undergone just as many surgeries. It's amazing how much he's been through. Five bypasses to his failing heart, after a heart catherization that followed a heart attack. Then within a month, before he had recovered fully, he lost the majority of his left leg to diabetes complications. Today, he has an infected bone in his right foot, and is expecting to lose a portion of his flesh and infected bone today.

This is a strange place to be. There have been years of stress in this father/son relationship, and here we are at another point in his life where he needs us. It's not the time to fuss over past pain or disappointments, but time to honor the fact that he is the father, and needs his son. I know God has blessed Mike's respectful handling of his dad, and we are here because the relationship goes much deeper than it probably should.

There is an old statement that comes to my mind today: "Let bygones be bygones." I don't know that I have realized it before, but this is what it's about today. As the past melts away, we are at peace that we are here today, honoring an earthly father, while more so, our Heavenly Father. It's not where we expected to be ten years ago, but we are here today.

While camping last weekend, we stopped on the way home for snacks. The restroom had a soap dispenser, and when I washed my hands there was a familiar scent that caught me off guard. I dried my hands, and the fragrance that remained immediately brought me back many, many years to my grandma's house. The soap in the dispenser had the very same fragrance that my grandma's soap had, and whether it was the same brand of not, I am not sure. But throughout the next hour or so, I could pick up faint remembrances of grandma, just through the scent of a particular soap. Memories are like that. They come out of nowhere, assault your senses, and leave behind a trail of thoughts that take you back to another day, another time.

I was caught in the middle of our weekend camping, making memories with my youngest children, but mindful of the past that shaped me into who I am today.

I am glad that we are here today. It's not the kind of memories that are pleasant, sitting in a waiting room for word from the doctor that Mike's dad has weathered another storm. But our past mandates the future, because who we are today is because of what we have been through in the past.

I am here for Mike. He is here for his dad. We are here together because it's important for us to honor the fact that, through thick or thin, this is what family is, and what family does for each other. It's the lingering scent of our lives, the past, the present and our future. I hope we live a life that leaves a memorable "scent" behind, so when our days are nearing the end, our children can remember us, reach out to each other, and honor the family ties that make us strong.

It's what makes our lives worth living.